


[D.T]ective

by 1Dem



Series: Discontinued stuff- sorry guys! [1]
Category: Undertale
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 12:26:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16832587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1Dem/pseuds/1Dem
Summary: The world looks different through a magnifying glass.A cacophony of colours that cannot be memorised, cannot be identified and cannot be understood. The world is a confusing thing, if you chose to look a little closer at the infinite, miniscule details, if you chose to lean a little further off the precipice of the mountain of lies and stare down at the bottomless abyss of truths- endless black tones swirling in an intangible net of connections.If you dare to stare long enough, the truth will start to turn and stare back.





	[D.T]ective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world craves power and so creates heriarchy, it doesn't matter who, it doesn't matter what- there will be a bottom and top dog, there will be the best and the worst. Being at the peak of the pyramid is just a biased game of luck dependant on the gambling addicted God.

**\---»:[H U M A N S]:«---**

**Heriarchy**. The word itself demands the snobbish tone that accompanies its meaning. In this world, it's almost synonymous with “luck”, it's something you are bred or pulled into unwillingly, and spinning the rigged wheel of fate gets tiresome the more birthdays you add to the toppling pile. Luck is rigged, the world is rigged, etcetera.

To you, the word heriarchy simply means “to be”. It means that in order to exist properly in this world, to be deemed as modest and just by the green, ghostly eyes of the world, you must accept that there is heriarchy, and that you undoubtedly, probably pulled the short stick on your turn. For everyone, there is something wrong with their position- the poor wish for stability, the rich wish for adventure. The world is unfair because nobody is perfect, and truthfully, that's how it should be. Nobody deserves to be perfect, not for the things they are capable of. Though, you guess even someone as loving as God also has evil potential, religion carefully overlooks it, however, God is good, God is right, God is eternal and just and omnibenevolent. He would **never** hurt you. Another reason they can never be prefect, they are ignorant. The more you shine, the longer the shadow you cast. The more possibilities, the more potential for evil, and no amount of convincing can convince the omnipotent judge otherwise.

Sidestepping the fickle subject of religion brings you to slightly more pressing matters, like the armed atomic bomb in the room: **Monsters**. Yes, you say it with a capital, as it should be, Monsters are a race that emerged from Ebbot mountain not long ago- all they ever wished for was peace with the humans, to live under the stars peacefully, and all they got back was the predictable reaction from humanity. **Hatred**. Fear and oppression, namely. It was an expected reaction, even from the more optimistic people on the planet, when faced with something so new and so **strange** , humans were left with limited options, the most useless being panic, and due to the age old habit of taking the path of least resistance, that's exactly what you all did.

You can't blame them though, even now you mildly fear crossing the road where Monsters await, chatting merrily amongst themselves. Even now, you quicken your pace when you confirm that it's a Monster that is trailing behind you, not a human. Even now, you are ashamed to say that you have never talked to a Monster before, nor met their eyes when they attempted conversation, or even acknowledgeed them as they passed, smiling sweetly at you.

You sat it your classical office desk, wringing your wrists as your eyes scanned the miniscule black font on the overly whitened paper with practised ease. Small snippets jumped out at you and were tucked away into the complex folder of your mind within a second of your half lidded eyes flicking over them- “unknown object”, “clean entry wounds,” “kitchen knife with bone handle found piercing the cranium”. These were Percy's notes, someone who always got their facts right, his adept listening skills ensured he picked up on **every** little scrap of information, even if the conversation it originated from was hushed and between a group of forensic scientists of the other side of the room, you never understood why they though that such details should be kept amongst themselves, Percy didn't either, apparently. You sometimes scared yourself by thinking that he stored all of your conversations in his mind to use against you later, but then he'd laugh and thump your shoulder with his large hand in that way that he did, and you found your doubts melted away.

You were shuffling through his papers and realigning the edges on the mahogany surface of the desk when the man himself strolled into the room. Well, it was more of a saunter, that was the kind of person he was- ego as large as his bank of knowledge until the very end. “Still up?” A strange talent you'd always had was tagging metaphors to voices, Percy's was strawberry milkshake- chirpy and bouncy, yet still smooth. The ends of his sentences curled up into the higher decibels of his vocal range like the corners of his notes, (It was as though he was prepared to end every sentence with a laugh, if it was necessary). He dog eared his pages - something about keeping them bunched together, though you always found them falling apart on you, the way you examined notes had you relived that he took the (admittedly, very little) time to scribble very nearly illegible (very, **very** nearly, but not quite) numbers on the bottom hand right of every single page. Honestly, the four looked more like his hand had a seizure when he put pen to paper.

“Yeah, but I'm leaving in a sec, you stayin`?” A problem you'd always had was the very slight slur that followed your words, sometimes casually chopping of a “t” or “g” whenever it felt like. Percy had always disliked how it seemed as though you didn't even care about anounciating your words correctly, especially as he knew how fast your mind worked in comparison, in comparison to anyone's mind, really. His belittling, playful stare as you slapped down his pile of now sorted notes onto the desk and quickly rose, neatly tucking in the chair under the desk smoothly spoke **levels** about his opinion of the missing “g” in your previous sentence. He only tutted at your confident swagger over to the door he had just entered through, you made a big show of shouldering him out the way as you left, then turned to look at him. "No, it's not like I have anything to do here, just wanted to check up on my favourite girl- and make sure my notes weren't ruined!" a playful scowl crawled across your carefully maintained features at that. A comically weak punch aimed at your shoulder descended you both into a fit of useless giggles. The clacking of your combined formal footwear echoed throughout the desolate, dark corridor as you both began the trek through the maze of hallways towards to exit of the building.

Silence engulfed the building as the last door was closed, and it was left dark and vacant.

**\---»:[M O N S T E R S]:«---**

The kings entourage of unique Monsters settled themselves in their respective seats at the table. Six in all, each one a representative of every part of the Monsters ideal kingdom, every one representing a portion of the kings dream. The large, humanoid goat at the head of the circular table rose and declared a toast for his fellow Monsters, thanking them for taking the time to enlighten him with their presence today. The small crown balanced on top of his golden mane of fur glinted as he sat once again and all of the monsters drank their favourite drinks, some more exotic than others. Ever the gentleman, the king extended a large, white, furry paw to one of the servants to offer his seat when he rose to begin his speech. He paced circles around the table- slow, deliberately smooth circles that helped ease his mind and solidify his purpose. This was not the first time he had been backed into making a tough decision and it most certainly would not be his last. His reign as the Monster king was expected to last as long as his life span, which, to say, was more than enough time to see the change of Monsterkind as they settled onto the surface.

The five other Monsters of his party were used to his unhurried pacing and got comfortable in their oversized seats as he began trailing his hand over the headpieces of their oversized chairs. They weren't personalised but each held the aura and scent of their owner, declaring proudly who they seated when meetings were in progress. They weren't in a castle, or a mansion, or any other large abode suited for a king, they were in a simple house, shared by as many Monsters that could comfortably fit. He was a giving man, though that didn't mean he couldn't take, he planned on taking a lot from the humans that were denying them a home on the land that they rightfully shared, the surface. Humans had a problem with sharing, which was something he had learned shockingly early on.

He recited his dream as he touched each chair: Love (and multispecies bonding), Honour (and unwavering loyalty), Kindness (and the responsibility that came with it), Unity (between humans and Monsters), Knowledge (of all things benefitting), and then Understanding (of all that needs attention) as he reached his own. His voice was deep and smooth as he began talking, reminiscent of the time he had spent preparing and the laps of the table which cleansed his mind, "I, once again, thank you all for coming here, it means a lot to me. I wanted to dicuss what should happen with the humans, knowledge from reliable sources dictates that we need a more... Uncomfortable approach when dealing with them in order to get through properly. I have an idea I don't particularly wish to carry out but will if it is necessary for the integration of Monsterkind into the human society. I wanted to ask if anyone wanted to speak up with any ideas before I present my own?" the servant quickly lept off the chair as Asgore reclaimed his seat, he looked around at his friends, each silent and relatively unmoving as they regarded him.

A few sipped their drinks as they watched, awaiting what the King of Monsters wished to do to sort out this steadily growing dilemma with the human population, the King's flower tea lay partially abandoned on the table as he thought carefully about how to present his solution. He knew more than a few Monsters in the room would definitely be against it. They were too small a race to fight back with numbers, yet were too large to slip under the radar or travel to a desolate island and live in peace for the rest of their long lives. Though it was inconvenient, Asgore had to think for all of his subjects, even if the resulting train of thought ended with his fur stained darker with blood more than it already was. Thank the stars the crimson liquid washed off pretty easily, but the sin was a thick, determined tar that stained his mind black, dripping into the dark corners of his mind and resurfacing when he least expected it, waking him late at night in a cold sweat or sending repulsed shivers down his spine in the day at what he'd done. Those poor.... Poor, children.

But never mind that, he shook his head clear as he opened his mouth to begin, revealing the sharp incisors that lined his mouth, all boss monsters were carnivorous by appearance, something humans had yet to get used to. The teeth where one of the minor setbacks, it was hard to talk when one look at your teeth had the person you were attempting a friendly conversation with dripping with sweat. There were a few monsters who could hide their canine sharpness pretty easily, but there were also some, like him, who had no hope. "We need to be... Assertive, I believe that attacking from the inside might shake the human foundation enough to allow us minor access, perhaps if we create and unsolvable problem and then solve it, the humans might rethink their view of us?" The tail end of his proposal had spiked up at the end in a question, something he definitely hadn't intended. He winced as he caught some of their expressions, he was literally saying that they should put lives at risk for this plan to work. From across the table, Unity spoke up, their magenta and violet striped sweater shifted as they readjusted their sitting position, they proposed a more direct approach, ensuring that no one could interfere, they could always kill the humans. The other goat at the table blanched at the suggestion, her fur was as white as snow and bristled at her obvious astonishment. She definitely had not expected such a direct preposition of such bloodshed. "Shall we take a vote, then?" The kings voice echoed easily over the table as the other quietened. Hopefully, the decision would be quick and they could begin, even if Asgore wept inwardly at the though of more death.

Silently, four hands rose, each face set in a form of solid determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, I'll try and make updates somewhat organised and frequent.


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